Since I rp both Zhyal and Bheid in this story I thought I'd write up what happens between these two in a short ficlet format rather than try and rp it out with myself because that would be silly. Here goes.

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Picks up after scene 1, I guess I'm calling it. Back with Elym, Seyd, and Kerigan. ( Read more... )

Setting is running concurrent with the previous scene, just across the plaza in the Priorate HQ.

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Logging a role play I'm doing with Jack. Seems like the convenient place to put it that both of us can get to. ( Read more... )

Proof that I somehow attract the clinically and possibly criminally insane. I swear I did nothing knowingly to provoke this IM except for one snarky offhanded comment in the chatroom which I then dismissed because it wasn't important. I get this IM followed by another on another sn once I ignored her for the first time. Look at the crazy! Just too damn funny not to share. I'm science_is_progress but that should be obvious.

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Because I want to showoff what a damn good Sawyer I am. No shame.

analucia_is_lost: Well, hello there.

james_lsawyerl_ford: Hello there, Lulu.

analucia_is_lost: What's up, cowboy?

james_lsawyerl_ford: -Lowers the smutty romance novel he's read about a half a dozen times already.- Something I can do you for, Pocahontas?

analucia_is_lost: -Scoffs- ...no. Was just getting some mangoes for Jack. Where's Kate? -arching both brows-. Lost her again? -folding arms across chest with a slight annoyed stance.-

james_lsawyerl_ford: -Purses his lips into a bemused grin.- I ain't her keeper. So you're Jack's mango girl now?

analucia_is_lost: ...what the hell is that supposed to mean? -Advancing on him slightly.- She's your girlfriend, am I wrong? I'm getting food for *other* people, you're not exactly doing anything.

james_lsawyerl_ford: -Barks out a laugh.- Kate? Hell, I'd like her to keep my sandy sleeping bag warm at night, but with the choices I got on this here Giligan's Island that ain't saying a whole lot now is it? As for the food, it grows all over, don't see any reason for me to go out and fetch it all when everyone else can do the same.

analucia_is_lost: You're an asshole, anyone ever tell you that? -She muttered, stopping from advancing on him and just stood there.- It. Never. Happened. -Speaking of their time, how Michael had tried to kill her, and... the whole gun thing.- -Funny thing was, she was the one who told him to keep his mouth shut, and here she was bringing it up.- - Ana frowned, still glaring some-what.-

james_lsawyerl_ford: Well you just did, cupcake. -Has a sneaky suspicion that the ex-cop didn't take too kindly to his nicknames. Good. It meant she wouldn't get too close.- Then again, -he drawled out, head tilting just enough to let hair fall in his face- not like it's the first time I've ever heard that. -Grunts with a shift of his postion, going from his casual recline to standing.- There a reason you're standing in my light?

analucia_is_lost: Truth be told, she was kind of soft. After all, Ana-Lucia had told people to 'give Sawyer her best'. She frowned, tucking back some of her ebony strands behind her ear and looked down at the sand. "Forget it." glaring daggers at him with that dark gaze and headed away from him, turning her back on him so he probably could stare at her ass but she didn't care. Funny thing was, they were the only ones that seemed to be around right now. Jack had gone off to play golf with Hurley and Kate, she hadn't heard Claire or Charlie bickering about Aaron. Grabbing onto the messenger bag on the sand, her olive colored hand picked it up and started to go through how much food they had for the day. Like she gave a shit anymore.

james_lsawyerl_ford: Well now wasn't that interesting. Generally he'd just shrug and go back to his reading, or if he was really feeling energetic he might scheme, but he rarely chased after anyone. It was a nice afternoon but that ass was nicer and he always did like a mystery. Since no one else seemed to be around for any entertainment he threw the book down along with his reading glasses and tromped through the sand after the head strong latina. "Hey now wait one second. *You* came over to *me*, remember? So what's this all about?"

analucia_is_lost: "If I said nevermind, it means nevermind." whirling on him with a fist raised. "I just wanted to..." but the Hispanic beauty had no excuse, her eyes stared at him coldly. "I wanted to see if you'd help...get the mangoes." what a terrible lie. That was one check mark, her mother would have said she was a terrible liar and it had been the truth after she had tried to say that Jason wasn't the one who had shot her. Hadn't Sawyer seen the scar on her stomach? He had no questions? Ana-Lucia was like a puzzle, she couldn't be figured out...yet it was so easy to put the pieces together. She couldn't kill Benjamin Linus, she couldn't shoot him...she couldn't do this anymore. "Just c'mere." Cortez muttered and disappeared off into the foliage.

james_lsawyerl_ford: He rolled his eyes at her blatant lie but if there was one thing he knew it was that people rarely concealed the truth for too long. They let it out in quieter ways than words, if you were smart enough to look for those silent signals you could find out a lot about a person without ever having to ask. Still, there were a lot of pieces to this woman. That alone kept him from ignoring her and returning to his book. "Alright, Gonzales, I'll help you with your melons." A purposeful switch of words. Grunting at the bush that was attemping to consume his foot he followed along after yanking it free. "What's so special about these mangoes, anyway? Don't take two people, not like they can run." And she had a bag to carry them in, it was a valid question. Plus, he liked to see her lie.

analucia_is_lost: "Shut up." she muttered, Ana took the messenger bag off from her persona and set it down on the jungle floor. "I'm gonna throw them down...and you put them in. Simple enough for you?" the Latina sassed and already turned her back once again to him, climbing up the tree. Hey, if she could get Bernard down that one time, then she could definitely get mangoes down. "My melons, are none of your business." rolling her eyes, getting the joke a little too late considering the brunette had been concentrating on other things. First mango that came down, she threw hopefully smacking him in the head. "Sorry." not caring if it hit him or not. Her slender body finally tossed down a few more, despite the messenger bag being half full. Anyone could go and get food, her lies were pretty bad. "This sucks."the woman muttered more to herself then him.

james_lsawyerl_ford: "Yeah, simple enough," he drawled out with a sass of his own. "Plus, I get to see that police trained ass from here and I don't much like climbing trees." At least not for the benefit of everyone else. They could get their own damn mangoes for all he cared. Looking up at her climbing figure he should have seen the fruit coming. Perhaps his eyes were just not accustomed to falling fruit as they were to the curves of a lithe woman's figure. Whichever the case, the mango hit him square in the forhead with a resounding crack. Quickly he lifted a hand to the banged spot to rub agrily at it. "You wanna watch where you're tossing those things?! Ow--goddamn," he grumbled, making hissing sounds of pain when he touched the injured spot. He tossed her a glare upwards before swiping up the fruit and stuffing it into the bag. Next time he looked up he had his eyes on the fruit. Hell, that was going to leave a mark.

analucia_is_lost: All it took was one wrong branch and she slid. "Ah shit." the tomboy muttered in that rasp, attempting to pull herself back up again, but failed and fell. Ontop of him now, boy the poor guy would have to endure not only falling fruit, but a falling Ana-Lucia. Straddling him, she glared down at him. "Get off of me." attempting to get up, but didn't really realize she hand her hands pinning his wrists down. Dark eyes stared down at him, knowing that this was the kind of predicament that she didn't want to be in. Hell, she wasn't even drunk. The young woman had however picked up some Sawyer antics, after all...they were two of a kind. "Son of a bitch." she muttered.

james_lsawyerl_ford: Hell, he knew this had to be a bad idea, but he assumed she'd have better luck than he would up a tree. Guess he was wrong. Luckily enough he saw her slip and had just enough decency to at least try and catch her. The thought was nice but the implementation of it was lacking and they both ended up on the ground. "You're considerably heavier than a mango, Hot Lips," he grunted out between shallow breaths after having the wind knocked out of him. When she ordered him to get off of her he just grinned. "You're the one top, which is, in my humble observations, the way you like it." 'So don't complain' was the tone the had. Canting his head to one side he lifted a brow slightly. "Gonna get up or are you starting to like the view?"

analucia_is_lost: Any sane woman would blush, but instead she reeled back a fist hoping to punch him, whether she hit her mark or not didn't matter. "That's the last time I ask you to help with...my mangoes." Cortez grit her teeth, this was foolish and oh so stupid. "Shut up, Sawyer." crashing her lips down upon his. Her nails made sure to dig into his wrists, the hell she liked it on top. He obviously knew her now. Was it love? She didn't know. Was it hate? Most likely, but there was no gun involved now. Apart of her seemed to wonder if he did really like Kate and back when Jack and Kate had betrayed her and Sawyer had tried to frame her for Sun...well things didn't really go so well together. Especially when he named himself the sheriff, like hell h was the sheriff. Only one cop here and it wasn't him.

Sawyer: Being a con artist meant you had to see things coming. You had to predict people, read them, understand their motives and drives and plan accordingly. Yet with all his years experience he did *not* see that kiss coming. Not even close. So it probably explained why he was a little too shocked to really kiss back. "...the hell, Lucy?" From what he knew about her she didn't care much for him and that had suited him just fine. It seemed the only way he knew how to be with a woman was when he was conning her. This was unfamiliar territory despite all his talk. "You got a reason why you suddenly felt the need to resuscitate me?"

Ana-Lucia: Furrowing her brows, Ana let go of his wrists and rolled off of him. She was hard to read, and she knew it. "...you ever wonder...where that scar came from?" getting up onto her feet. "You know, the one on my stomach?" Ana asked, it was just a question. How the hell did he know it would mean anything? So she lifted up the hem of her black tank top and showed him, just at her midriff. "I was shot..." letting her gaze flicker back up to meet his. "On duty." shrugging her shoulders, it probably meant nothing to him. Absolutely nothing.

Sawyer: Wasn't she just a rollercoaster of confusion? Some might dislike that in a person but Sawyer took it as a challenge. For a moment he just laid there on his back trying to make sense of it all before rolling over onto his side to glance at her stomach when she pointed it out. "Looks like a gunshot wound to me, sister," he agreed. It seemed reasonable that she'd be shot while on duty since she'd been a cop in a previous life. A life before that damnable plane crash. "So, what was it? Take one for a fellow donut muncher?" He had such a way with words.

Ana-Lucia: "I was pregnant." a faint smile, but it faded. "I just let him reach...thought he had I.D, yanno? Like he was just a kid. He wasn't." Ana tilted her head to the side. "Why am I telling you this?" scoffing and bent over to grab onto the messenger bag, zipping it up. She watched him however out of the corners of her eyes and saw the way he was just laying there. There was emotion in her eyes, but Cortez wasn't one to cry. Hell she didn't, only for Eko.

Sawyer: Now he felt a little awkward but he wasn't about to let it show. Instead of compassion, an emotion he wasn't entirely familiar with, he simply let out a whistle. "Whew, momacita, you do have some issues." He couldn't say he understood because he didn't. He couldn't give her any words of consolation because he didn't know any. The best he could offer was a bit of blithe sarcasm and blunt honesty. "I don't know why you're telling me this, ain't like I was the one who shot you." He finally got to his feet. "Though, I do have a way with guns." That was given with a wide smirk, still utterly proud of himself for that feat.

Ana-Lucia: "Did it occurre to you, that maybe one day...someone would actually like your sorry ass?" the tomboy sighed, staring at him as she folded her arms across her chest. "What do you want me to say to you? Yeah, it took a near death experience to ..." she trailed off. "Just go find Kate, I'm sorry I tried." and began to walk off once more. Good lord, she actually had feelings for him. Deep inside, Cortez was screaming, she could just kick herself for this. The woman promised that she'd never like anyone like Danny again, never be happy again. Not after the Others took the kids...not until someone would actually feel the way she did and not just be a hardened leader.

Sawyer: "Ain't nobody ever has," he shot back, "not the real me, anyhow." And wasn't that the truth. Sure, he could get women to do just about anything for him but they were always googly eyed for the persona he was putting on for them, not for who he really was. Not a one of them would have stuck around or even given him the time of day if they really knew. Hell, most days he didn't even like himself either. "Right, go find Kate. Sounds to me like someone here's a little jealous," he called out after her. Jealous of what, though? Maybe he'd never figure these women out. With a bemused sigh he ran a hand back through his shaggy hair to get it out of his eyes.

Ana-Lucia: "Jealous? You think, someone would actually give two shits if you were a smooth talking, con man? ...boy, I've conned you." she spoke, now going off on him in Spanish a little. "I see through you, Sawyer. What the hell is your real name anyway? I gave you mine." sarcasm. Wouldn't it be funny if she actually knew back when she had been Christian's body guard that she had hit Sawyer with the car door, how ironic. "What are you hiding from?" now there was emotion in her tone. "This cat and mouse game, cute as it is. ..." furrowing her brows. She wasn't one to run away from things, it was either take it by full force or get rid of it.

Sawyer: "Look, Princess, you're the one who kissed me, alright? Not the other way around. You don't like me? Fine. You like me? Fine. This here ain't no Temptation Island." With the question as to his real name he paused with a deep frown. Now that was just territory no one really deserved to go into. "I don't see how that's any of your business, I never asked you to tell me your name so it ain't like I owe you mine." And besides that, information was expensive and he didn't think she had the currency for it.

Ana-Lucia: "I kissed you to get a gun." Ana-Lucia countered, clearly not amused with the situation. "But you're afraid, aren't you? It's none of my business? Bull shit, you're not telling me anything because you're too much of a pussy to tell the truth. You play it like you're hardcore but you don't even know what that means." words were cold, always cold. She started to walk away, just as the sound of the baby was heard in the distance. Baby Aaron. Claire was probably up and about by now, where the hell had everyone gone? "Good game, Jack." Kate smirked, the doctor just looked like he could cry, always. "I almost beat you." he nodded with a smirk.

Sawyer: He stared her down with a fierce furrowing of his brows. That bitch. Alright, she wanted to play a game she was going to have a tough time winning. "Oh and I suppose you do?" He countered back to her claim that he didn't know the meaning of hardcore. Maybe he didn't but he sure as all hell didn't think she knew any better. "You think one little gun is going to protect you?" He stepped forward, angry now that she'd gotten one up on him, and did his damnedest to look intimidating. "You can either give it back or I'll take it back, comprende?" He could hear the others of their group in the distance but he didn't give one damn. This was none of their goddamn business.

Ana-Lucia: Well, an ideal thing to say was 'over her dead body' but somehow she didn't think that was appropriate. It didn't occur to him that maybe he wasn't the only tortured soul on the island. "Not to protect me, but to kill him, Jackass." Ana said loudly so anyone could hear them. Though no one did, they were pretty far into the jungle. "You're not getting it back. Now, step off." turning to look at him, as if willing him to fight her. She could beat his ass and beat it hard. "Punching isn't the only thing I'm good at." though it did help.

Sawyer: "Oh so now you've gone from glorified donut muncher to bonified vig-eye-lantee," he was intrigued but not enough to hand over a gun without something in return as payment. "Ain't it something what time on a deserted island will do for someone's civilized nature." He stepped closer, getting within arms reach despite her threat of punching he could take a hit. "Now, Muchacha, you're going to hand that gun back over. I ain't opposed to hitting a woman if she deserves it." He didn't particularly like hitting women but she didn't need to know that.

Ana-Lucia: "Or what? What are you going to do, hit me?" she growled, having to take off the messenger bag and tossed it to the side. Readying her fist, and swung. She had other things up her sleeve. "You're not getting it back." shoving him onto the ground, whether the fist hit or not. She straddled him, and this time it wasn't for fun. raising a hand once more, to smack him upside the head. If he turned the tables on her she was screwed.

Sawyer: "Yeah I just mi--" he was cut off mid retort by a fist he captured with one hand. Now to either keep his word and hit her while she was vulnerable or simply try to subdue her without much violence. He didn't get much of a choice. She'd thrown her weight into it and with his footing not prepared for the shift of their bodies he toppled back to the ground with her weighing down on his waist again. "If I didn't know any better, sweetcheeks, I'd say you just like having me on my back all--" he had to stop his commentary to deal with another swing. "Goddamnit woman, you want me to hit you?!" While she was busy with that endeavor he attempted to reach for her waist, sure that she probably stashed the gun away there. At the very least it was worth a shot.

I can't seem to get off the ground just yet for Nano, but Jack would like to see what I've gotten so far. Here it is in all it's raw glory.


Decorated in the unmistakeably bright orange of the X-wing pilot's jumpsuit, Wedge Antilles shifted his vigilant stance. In the hangar bay which berthed Rogue Squadron's array of X-Wing fighters stood along the far wall a line of holostatues. Guardians, ever watchful, of the pilots who prepped themselves down below on the hangar's floor below. Captain Antilles made it a habit, or more like a ritual if his wing-men were asked to describe it, of standing in front of each of their transparent faces to look them in the eyes giving them his silent promise that he would not join their ranks until he'd seen the last of their sacrifices fulfilled.

It would be easy for a man to get swallowed up in the responsibility and weight of being a survivor; too easy to regret living in the face of those who had paid a heavy price. Shifting along to the next in line the stalwart leader held back a flinch. Biggs. The one face he was reluctant to revisit on these occasions. It was Biggs, ironically, who reminded him that for every time he returned from a close fought skirmish he kept his cockpit free of another soul who would be sent to stand in the line of fire. Each time the Rogues were successful lives were spared; even when lives were spent in the process.

Reflections were better suited for another time when he could have the luxury of indulging in senseless guilt. While his eyes scanned over familiar faces his resolve forged itself into steel upon sight of the news ones added to the list. Luke talked about anger as if it was a force capable of being controlled, Wedge was beginning to doubt that the Jedi fully knew what he was talking about. Maybe for a Jedi that level of control was possible, but for the average man it seemed like a task that was growing more impossible by the day.

There was an unmistakable sound of boots clicking along the catwalk to his right, but they carried a distinct stately air rather than the rugged shuffle of flight boots. It was pure instinct, rather than a predisposition to the Force, that had Wedge wheeling around with one hand easily gliding to his hip where the comforting weight of a blaster sat off to one side.

Firstly, Jack got me a Wedge Antilles figurine which I am going to fap madly with---I mean use for inspiration. BEST BOYFRIEND EVER.

Any way, to the AW SHIT part. Nano is in four days and I still have no real antagonist. Sure  I know what he's going to be up to for plot purposes but I don't even know what RACE he is let alone what he LOOKS like or even his NAME. FUCK.

It may just be easier to create my own race that fits what I'm looking for instead of trying to sift through all the Star Wars canon for what I want. I know I want his political structure from the sector he's from to be accustomed to assassinations and political infighting as the norm. If you hold a political position of power you are expected to maintain that power and if you get yourself killed by an ambitious aide, well that was your own damn fault and you didn't deserve to have that office. Since they will be new to the fledgling Republic they have some getting used to in terms of the New Republic's government, which will make the situation even more sticky. To pile onto that, whatever his constituents are they bring in something very valuable to the Republic, something they wouldn't want to just toss aside for the Empire to scoop back up.

AAAAAAAAAAAH. I'm sure I'll come up with something.

Part of an RP story line, but Dacon's all by his lonesome so I'm using Lj to fill in on what he's been up to.

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“I feel as awkward as a Tartanian Narg in a suit,” Wedge complained, tugging at the confining fabric.

“Relax, you look distinguished,” Han chided with a lopsided smirk, one he was particularly famous for wearing.

“Yeah, that's just it isn't it? I don't want to be distinguished.” He wanted to be an architect but the Rebellion had other plans for him. Luke would have said it was his destiny, probably.

“You've earned it, whether you like it or not. Welcome to the world of being respectable.”

Wedge gave a halfhearted grin at the smuggler turned general. “Can you believe it, two Corellians turned respectable by a rebellion of all things.”

“We do our ancestors a great justice, I know. Now quit your fussing, you've got a ceremony to go to.”

“Don't remind me,” Wedge groaned, walking in stride with General Solo. “Couldn't they just pin a medal on me in the hangar bay and let that be that?”

“What? And let you miss out on squirming around all awkwardly in front of a crowd of bleary eyed kids wanting to be you? Fat chance. I'm going to enjoy watching you suffer up there.”

“You're a true friend, Han.”

“Wouldn't have it any other way. Good luck.” With that said the general parted ways to find Leia and sit in the audience.

Wedge took a gulp of the last calm air he'd get. He could fly into the heart of the Death Star, stand his ground against both Ssi-Ruusi and Imperial ships at Bakura, but ask him to stand in front of his peers and be distinguished with a medal and you had the ace pilot shaking in his boots. The Death Star was a walk in the park compared to the few meters of stage he had to traverse when his name was called.

In the realm of piloting every man and woman had to earn their stripes, he just never guessed it'd be in a crowded room where his nerves were truly tested.

Vincent x Gabriel. You've been warned. First person Vincent. Not really great at this but hey it's something.

 

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I blame you Ran. I truly do.

Just my own creation stuff. First off is the base materials and then the elements which get mixed in to give the Golems their traits. I may bring in a precious stones/gem section to give the Golems even more customizability and powers.

Golemology:

Clay

Kaolin - A very robust material that lends the Golem made from it with a higher degree of strength, yet it is not the most maleable and must be cast carefully or will come out looking malformed. This is a better suited base material for indestinct Golem shapes used for mostly guarding and security purposes rather than more skilled and dexterous tasks. The humanoid class of Golems are not generally made out of this type of clay due to the extreme difficulty of adding detail.

Fire Clay - A reddish hued clay that is easier to work with than Kaolin, mostly. It leaves the Golem with a red tint. Despite the name it does not imbue the Golem with any fire elemental powers or resistance.

Earthenware - A clay that contains fairly high concentrations of iron giving it a greater strength. Used primarily for the giant Golems who take on an almost earth elemental appearance, often mistaken for boulders when they are at rest. Useful for moving large amounts of earth for building as well as for defense.

Stoneware - As the name implies this clay is the strongest of its class. Used for Golems where strength is a priority. Usually leaves a dullish grey hue to the Golems made from it though other pigmentation may be added.

Porcelain - The clay most often employed when making humanoid Golems. It is a difficult substance to work with having very low plasticity and therefore requires a high level of dedication and perserverance to make a detailed humanoid Golem from. The Golem's "skin" tone can vary depending on pigmentation, if added. If no pigmentation is added the Golem will have extremely pale and smooth "skin". It is not a very strong substance and is thus not a first choice for Golems needed in protection or military situations.

Metals

Gold - A very expensive base material to start with and a very weak one at that. Generally used only by the extremely wealthy and only for servant purposes. Being that Gold Powder is also used to imbue a Golem with intellect and self-awareness these Golems also possess such qualities. This makes them useful as scholars in simple tasks or assistants and servants. A gold Golem is extremely rare owing to the fact that a great deal of gold is required in order to mold the shape desired.

Silver - Another expensive and weak metal. Since Silver Dust is used to give a Golem an attachment to the magical realm these Golems inherently possess such a power. They are commonly used as wizard assistants or on the battlefield casting offensive or protective spells from a distance. They are also costly to make and thus rare.

Iron - A very strong and common material making the Golems formed from it very formidable in battle. Can be made into many shapes to fit the desired need. When humanoid they are not often given many details as they are generally used for combat and do not need to be asthetically pleasing.

Bronze - Not as strong as Iron but the Golems made from this alloy look more stately and official yet cost less than gold and are not by default self-aware and intelligent. They make for good guards of estates.


Wood - A variety of sources and utlities make this an ideal choice for Golems to be used as grunts. Different trees can imbue these Golems with different strengths but they all have a similar weakness: fire. They burn quickly and are therefore not ideal for use anywhere fire may be a hazard. They are relatively cheap to make and if you are a skilled craftsman they can be as detailed as the creator sees fit.

Plant Life - Harder to sculpt than most materials, these Golem generally are more amorphous in design and their plants retain a lifelike quality. Vines can be employed as snares and they make for good traps in wooded locales or places heavy in foliage.

Cadavers - A more grotesque material used primarily by those with the intent to strike fear by using body parts in order to form their Golems. Necromancers seem to favor this method and it is ubiquitously thought of as evil.

Animal Remains - Also a very Necromatic trait. These Golems can be a mixing of animal parts and generally are quite grotesque.


Antimony - A metalloid substance that resembles a metal in appearance and physical properties yet does not react chemically like a metal. Added to a Golem's constitution antimony generates a more wildlike nature and animalistic qualities. Best served for guard 'dog' like Golems or for when you have need for a mixture of power and a hunter's skill.

Arsenic - A notoriously poisonous metalloid substance. While deadly to humans it has no such effect on Golems. It has three allotropic forms; yellow, black, and grey. The yellow form grants intellect and clarity of mind, giving the Golem a higher level of intelligence. The black form commands mastery from the Golem, making it capable of mastering specific skills dependent on the Will of its creator and the Design it was made in. The grey form of arsenic is a balancing agent and is used often in the more humanoid forms of Golems to stabilize their "psyche".

Copper - A red hued metal notoriously linked to Venus/Aphrodite. The addition of copper to a Golem can imbue it with beauty and artistic creativity. Often used by the alchemists seeking to restore a former lover to life.

Gold - A very expensive transition metal and one of the most valued elements. The addition of this element grants the Golem self-awareness and perfection of mind. It allows a Golem to act in the interests of its Creator without having to be explicitly commanded. Good for when the Creator does not have the time or the desire to dole out every command but would rather the Golem intuitively learn the Will of its Creator and follow it through with a limited amount of free-thinking. It does not grant a Golem free-will as this is impossible to do.

Iron - a very common metal and believed to be the tenth most abundant in the known universe. Adding iron to a Golem gives it physical strength and more male character and energy.

Lead - a bluish-white metal. Lead will give a Golem an understanding of the philosophies and when combined with gold will lead a Golem to a greater understanding of Self and what it is to be a Golem. Not a very widely used combination for the more mechanical Golems as they have no need to ponder on the meaning of life. For scholarly assistants this combination is highly preferred.

Magnesium - a flammable metal when in thin strips and once ignited it is difficult to extinguish. As such this metal gives the Golem a near infinite life flame, making it difficult to destroy. A very sought after material for soldier Golems.

Mercury - A metal that is liquid at room temperature. When added to a Golem Mercury gives it a significant increase in mental speed, able to process multiple sources of information at once along with storing information. Useful for the scholars who wish to have a personal database walking beside them which can easily and quickly retrieve stored information at the Command of its Creator.

Phosphorous - Represents spiritual illumination. Adding phosphorous to a Golem ties it to its maker through Spirit, giving the Creator a greater degree of freedom in control of his/her Golem. Combined with gold it will grant a Golem a very perceptive nature, often anticipating commands before even the Creator realizes that he wishes it done.

Platinum - Imbues the Golem with perserverence and a greater endurance. A choice element for Golems designed for a specific task that they will doggedly persue until either it is completed or they are utterly destroyed.

Salt - A required component for Golem creation. Being seen as the base matter, salt is used as a base component believed to be neccessary in the combination of other ingredients.

Silver - Another of the expensive metals though it is less costly and rare as gold. Silver is used to give a Golem intuition, inner wisdom, and contemplation. Most sought after by the scholars for use in their Golem assistants for the task of research that can be done independently of the Creator.

Sulfur - A yellow crystalline solid that when added to a Golem gives it something that could be akin to a soul. The symbol for sulfur represents the triad of ascention which can be viewed as a holy trinity. Sulfur is a necessary ingredient in Golemology to bring the Golem to "life". Without it the Golem remains a machine with no ability to move other than when commanded to do so. Varying amounts of sulfur will have varying effects. A small amount will give 'life' to a Golem but leave it a drone whereas a high concentration of sulfur will give the Golem the same sense of right and wrong as the Creator has.

Tin - Another necessary element for creating a Golem. Being ruled by Jupiter this element is often associated with the Breath of Life. Without it no Golem can even be animated in the first place, whether as a simple machine or as a more complex 'individual'.

"All systems are a go. Ensign Vadi, status update?" The senior officer on this two-man experiment turned in his pilot's chair to give a sidelong glance at the Bajoran born Ensign sitting beside him at the engineering controls.

"Narib, sir." If the boy's nose could crinkle any further it might have at being called by his first name. A common mistake made by almost all non-Bajoran's.

"Excuse me, Ensign?"

"It's Ensign Narib, Sir, Vadi is my first name. It's an old Bajoran custom my parents couldn't quite give up on." There were a lot of old customs his parents weren't too keen on giving up on. Starfleet had been a welcomed escape from tradition, but he still kept to the name order of his people.

"Ensign Narib then, I still want that status update." Narib, Vadi, whatever, he'd sort out the name later when this test was over and done with. There was already enough to think about as they prepped the class 7 shuttle for it's first trial run of the new transwar technology.
 

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Need to fill out more of this but it's what I have so far for my unnamed steampunk-ish girl. Emphasis on the punk, not so Victorian. Maybe post-apocalyptic of sorts, far enough along that some form of government has taken root once more. Dunno.

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Please let me be dead. Eyelids might as well have been steel gates as I lay in the murky waters unwilling to open them. The blast had knocked my body backward and mercilessly into the trench. No time to pity myself, with a force of will I opened my eyes to the black and acrid smoke and dust swirling above me in a haze of death itself. At least it wasn’t the gas, my mask was down around my neck and I can’t remember if that was from the force of falling of if I hadn’t had it on to begin with. Irrelevant. The oddity of it all was the deafening silence that accompanied scenery which should be fraught with sound.

My head is spinning but I manage to pull myself to my feet, the heavy wool of my uniform is now soaked through and feels at least fifty pounds heavier. I can’t afford to be sluggish and despite the frigid air I peel back the layers and toss them to dry land above me. I don’t even have time to assess any personal injuries I may have, there’s a boy of fifteen huddled to the trench wall and he’s bleeding fast. For now, for this moment, he is my only concern. I try yelling to him but I still can’t even hear the sound of my own voice, the ringing refuses to stop. How close had that shell come? Before I can shrug off the thought I see another rocket tail. It’s useless to yell, my hand shoots out until it finds fabric and I tug down as hard as I can, seeking refuge for us both in the placid and death infused waters. The blast sends a shockwave of expelled energy and both the boy and I are sloshed to the wall, my arm around him feels the weight of earth caving in.

I refuse to be buried alive. Of all the deaths I can envision that is one I want to avoid at all costs. The trench’s walls were made for shelter but they can no longer withstand weeks of rain and a barrage of missiles. By the time I’ve clawed my way to the surface I’m covered in mud and the boy in my arm is coughing. At least he's alive. Once I get us both to our feet I notice he isn't wearing a helmet. It must have been lost in the confusion. My ears are still ringing so I don't bother speaking, I reach up to my chin and unfasten the straps and sit the too big helmet on his head. With a thunk my knuckles rap on the top with a reassuring smile that I don't at all feel. "You'll live," I want to say, but I'm not a great liar.  I'm no longer sure I'll live, in fact, I'm already dead.

I can't worry about myself, I'm already gone, that's how I have to see it. My life is already over, probably floating down the diseased waters of the trench, but these boys --they still have their lives and I can focus all my energy on them. If I make it out of this hell, maybe then I learn how to live again.

Setting: Three weeks after the first deployment of the U.S.S. Enterprise under Captain Kirk's command. Alternate-Universe (Movie).

Space really was the final frontier. It would be irresponsible of him to dwell on its vastness in conjunction with the recent demise of his home-world of Vulcan, but the thoughts were there. They hovered just beneath an icy determined control, like shadows beneath the surface of a frozen lake. In meditation the events leading up to and after it’s destruction played over in precise clarity and time and time again he denied himself the abandon of emotion. One by one he locked them away. Fear, regret, sorrow, and anguish, but most of all his anger.

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Space Pirates! Original character for a new genre. Taylon Karde. Subject to some changes as we go along but this is the basic idea.

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Detaching was never my issue, in fact I excel at it. Even with the strained syllables in Gabriel's voice I don't let them affect me. I can't. The moment I do is the moment I start to get weaker and weaker until someone, or both of us, ends up dead. Someone has to keep a level head around here and I silently volunteer. "Because it's what I do, Gabe." That should be a simple enough response to his question of why I hunt, but I can hear the light sigh even if Gabriel tried to hide it. "It would be wonderful to believe everything that's out there has a choice to be good or evil and that, like you, it chooses to be good, but it doesn't work that way. If you think it's just werewolves and vampires, I envy your innocence." Envied it and wanted to protect it, but how could I argue my point without letting Gabriel know the depths that other world went to. "At least I make the distinction now, between those who can choose and those that can't or won't." I wasn't the Order now, I had my own set of rules and my own freedom to hunt what I wanted to. Gabriel had to understand at least that much. It never was about the killing for me, I was always detached from it.

I could hear through the silence those words left unspoken and if I tried I knew I could enter Gabriel’s mind and pick it apart for what I needed to know. It was tempting, I am not going to lie. Will power was never a shortcoming for me and I held back the reigns of my mental powers with a practiced ease. If it became vital to get my point across perhaps I would delve into that artistic mind to better understand how to talk to him, but until then I could not and would not invade his privacy. 

“My innocence?” Gabriel’s voice was almost foreign to my ears, perhaps I had struck a nerve. “How ironic.”

“A poor choice of words,” I conceded without losing any argumentative ground. “You have a good deal of understanding about your own ‘condition’,” I chose my words carefully, this was treacherous and very uncharted ground my feet were treading over. Highly unpredictable. “However, I doubt you know what else is really out there, and I’m not talking about the Fey Children and their courts; they are truly children in comparison.”

“Comparison to what? I know there’s something you’re not telling me Vincent, I’ve known for weeks now  and I’ve given you the time and the opportunity to share it with me. Now I’m insisting.”

That was a slight shock. Gabriel excelled at patience, this much I knew, but I had not picked up on his willingness to keep curiosity at bay. I wouldn’t have. I would have backed him into a metaphorical, and possibly physical, wall and forced the information out of him if he ever kept something of importance from me. In my defense it was for Gabriel’s own protection that I kept him in the so called ‘dark’.

“You were a religious man once and possibly still are,” I started to ease him into it drawing on personal experience to help explain the very real threat everyone faced yet had no clue about. “Then maybe it won’t be so difficult for you to believe that hell is very real.”

I let my arms fold across my chest, a position I liked to take when I felt vulnerable. Why I felt vulnerable in front of Gabriel I couldn’t tell. Perhaps because I was opening up a new world for him and it wasn’t one I ever wanted to be a part of let alone share. “In the past few months there have been over eighty possessions in this city alone. Some of them are repeats so that does not represent the actual number of demonic presence here but I wouldn’t celebrate just yet. Only a year ago one or two possessions were the most The Order would ever see…globally.”

The silence was deafening and I would give anything for it to break. It was understandable that Gabriel needed time to process that kind of information but the anticipation and anxiety were starting to get to me. Idly I wondered just how antsy I looked with my fingers now sweeping over my shirt checking for missing buttons or wrinkles to smooth out.

“What does this mean?” Oddly enough Gabriel didn’t sound nervous or upset. Why should that surprise me? There was a certain calmness about Gabe that drew me a pace closer. Maybe it would rub off. I wasn’t panicked, at least not yet, and I rarely ever let it show when I was anxious but at the moment I was fairly sure Gabriel could see it. If I didn’t know what anxiety looked like how was I supposed to know what exactly I should be hiding?

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. Perhaps the uncertainty was what bothered me the most. I never did well with the unknown. “The Order seems to think we’re facing Armageddon, aharit ha-yamim,
Ragnarok, Qiyamah, or whatever it is you want to call it. I’m not so dramatic but I do believe we’re about to go to war and that souls do lie in the balance. Now, ask me again why I’m still hunting.”

“But what can you, one man, do about it?” There were times I appreciated Gabriel’s blunt honesty, this was not one of those times. “I don’t mean to insult you, Vincent,” did I look insulted, I thought to myself with a frown tugging at my lips, “but you’re just one man. Putting yourself at risk needlessly won’t stop this potential war and if it’s as bad as you think it is then what do you hope to accomplish?”

I didn’t like being brought into question like that, especially not by Gabe who clearly had no right to judge my abilities. What I hated most, though, was the fact that he was right and that I wanted to have no part in admitting it. “What does it matter? I’ll be damned before I sit on my ass and do nothing. Maybe burying your head in the sand worked for you all these years but that’s not my style.”

“I do hope,” Gabriel started in a tone that bordered on agitation but was tempered with strained patience, “that you are not calling me a coward.”

Had I said that? Maybe I hinted at it. Either way I hadn’t meant it like that. It irritated me that Gabriel would throw it back in my face in that unnervingly calm manner of his. “I don’t have to call you a coward when you act like one.” I was angry and really he was asking for it with that borderline passive aggressive attitude of his. I wished he’d just yell at me so we could get this over with already.

“The only thing I’m afraid of,” Gabriel went on as if he wasn’t bothered by my aggression which only fanned the flames of my anger, “is you getting yourself killed for this. The Order isn’t going to “bury it’s head in the sand”, to borrow a line from you, and sooner or later they’re going to take notice.”

I laughed. It was a derisive sound that passed my lips before I had time to think better of it. “You think The Order is the biggest of my problems? Gabriel I haven’t been hunting vampires or wolves or even misguided Fey Children, I’ve been tracking demons. If you think the Order is going to come after me for doing their job for them then you don’t understand the magnitude of the situation here. They don’t even have the resources to go after our kind any more. They barely have the resources to fend off this new wave of demonic presence. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if they offered me a job at this point.”

“You say that as if it’s supposed to ease my mind. It doesn’t. But,” I could hear the sigh in Gabriel’s voice, “you’ll do what you want. I can only hope that you’ll be safe.”

I was infuriated and frankly I’m not even sure I had any right to be. Why couldn’t Gabriel just have it out with me so this could all be over with? Did he always have to be this difficult when he was right? I should have said I was sorry, I should have said I understood, I should have said anything but what came out of my mouth. “You’re damn right I will.”

My independence is everything. When I fight, I fight alone. The price for this alienation tonight would be a very big and empty bed. As I slammed my bedroom door shut I had to wonder if it was at all worth it. Maybe the price of independence was higher than I could afford.

Ran always has this way of inspiring a Vincent muse. It's been far too long but that's what vacationing will do to you. I look forward to routine again in a week or so. At any rate I decided to do something I'm not entirely good at and so this is written in *GASP* first person. I wanted some practice with a style I don't tend to enjoy. I actually love how this turned out, shockingly.

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Been a while but I'm back at it, somewhat. I'm on vacation at the moment but I had a muse and Jack had class so the result was some writing. I'm not completely satisfied with it but then again I'm never completely satisfied with most that I do.

Warning: STAR TREK. Has NOTHING to do with the new movie, which by the way was fuckin' spectacular and awesome and I loved it.

For any fans who'd like to know this is set in 2367 at the battle of Wolf 359. And don't tell me that the massacre left no one but the Enterprise alive because that means you've never seen Deep Space 9. Hello, Sisko and Jake? Not to mention everyone else who managed to get into escape pods and make it out alive. Sorry, but some twit who thinks he knows it all told me no one else survived this battle and he's just dead WRONG. I like being right. Feels great.

“Engineering!” the captain's voice pierced the thick air of main engineering over the bustling officers scurrying about like ants trying to repair their hopelessly damaged hill. “Status report,” he demanded.

 

( Red Alert... )